


Eyes of the End

by PinkMagnolia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Clay | Dream Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dehumanization, Hurt Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Nightmare, Not Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Possession, Prison, Protective GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Sad Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Touch-Starved Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:48:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29439249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkMagnolia/pseuds/PinkMagnolia
Summary: Dream was locked up in prison for his terrible actions during his time on the SMP.But what if they all got it wrong?The Dream they all threw into prison is not the same person that comes back out, and they all must suffer the consequences.
Comments: 49
Kudos: 656





	1. Opening the Cell

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea for a little while so I'm excited to share it! Just a forewarning, I do take many creative liberties within this where many things may not exactly match up to the Dream SMP/Minecraft universe in order to fit this story specifically.  
> I hope you all enjoy :D

It had been months. Sam, the man who built the prison from scratch himself, finally entered his creation for the first time in about six months. His metal boots sent sharp rings that bounced and echoed off the empty walls as he made his way down corridor after corridor, the only light provided by the torch in his hand doing none to hide the unease of the silent halls. The prison was empty except for himself and the lone prisoner. He never thought there was a need for constant surveillance of guards; he built it that way purposefully. No one wanted to spend their free time in the cold prison when they weren’t the ones deserving of the punishment. Instead, Sam had set up intricate systems to replace the jobs of humans. However, just as any system, they were bound to have faults. He was lucky, really, to have gone so long without a hiccup, until this morning when he was notified of a system failure with the food depositor that fed the prisoner bread and potatoes once a day, every day. 

The system was the first thing he checked. The warden expected a corroded wire or maybe a potato that forced it to stop. However, when he opened the systems room, he stood in front of a mountainous pile of moldy food that had gone through the system and returned, untouched. The pile had gotten so large it blocked any other food from spilling into the room. From the looks of it, Sam would have had to guess at least three weeks worth of food was piled up in front of him. Which begged the unnerving question: what happened?

Sam grumbled, realizing he had to actually check on the prisoner himself, promptly spinning on his heel and heading down to the one occupied cell. 

The obsidian door came into view from the glowing of Sam’s torch, each lock still in place, and from the sudden weight in his limbs, he could only assume the miner’s fatigue was still in place. None of the locks had been touched since this door was first shut months ago, now coated in a thick layer of dust and some spider webs. From the outside, this seemed like just another empty cell like the rest in the prison. 

Something about that thought made Sam feel a little sick. Yet, over the long six months, no death message or notifications of alarms as a nod of his escape had come through, assuring the creeper-hybrid that the man he locked up was still in there. But that thought had little to no reassurance in itself. 

Sam finally mustered a deep breath before crouching down to a small area of locks in the lower center of the door. It was a small little peephole, just big enough to get a look inside, but barely big enough to push a hand through. Looking through the little hole felt like the safer option at the moment, memories of the prisoner thrashing around violently burned into the man’s mind to this day. 

He took the ring of keys from his belt, slowly unlocking the peephole, and lifted a small portion of the obsidian to get a peek inside. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkroom, the only light coming from the soft glow of the obsidian and the light that filtered in from the hole. Sam squinted searching the eerily quiet cell before his eyes finally fell upon a slouched silhouette against the opposite wall. However, as much as tried to maneuver the light from the small hole, he couldn’t quite make out any discerning details about the other. He wasn’t quite certain what he was looking for either; a sign that the man was alive, maybe. 

The warden groaned, scratching at his face. If he couldn’t see anything he knew he was going to have to fully open the door and get up closer to the prisoner. 

Just as he was about to close the hole back up, two eyes opened up and looked straight back at him. 

Sam shot back immediately with a cry, his limbs scrambling across the floor to back him into the wall behind him, his breaths coming out sharp and jagged. His heart pounded in his ears and he shook his head trying to rid the visual from his mind. Sam blinked back at the stone that had fallen back into place separating him from the inside of the cell. 

_What the hell was that?_

He quickly got to his feet and ran down the hall, putting as much distance between the cell and himself. His body moved on pure instinct as he pulled out his communicator to send an urgent message to the only two people that came to mind. 

**_Both of you meet me outside the prison as soon as you can._ **

___ __ __ __ __ ___

The warden was unsure of how long he spent pacing the entrance of the prison. His boots fell into a rhythmic pattern: five steps forward, turn, five steps forward, turn, and so on. He searched his brain tirelessly for an explanation for what he had seen or at least convinced himself that what he saw was only the trick of his own mind. But his attempts were futile as his thoughts continued rampantly. 

Sam lifted his head at the sound footsteps, promptly stopping his pacing to stand up straighter. Two figures stopped in front of him, tension clearly visible as they curiously eyed the looming prison over them. “Phil, Ranboo,” he addressed both with a curt nod, “Thank you both so much for meeting me so quickly.” 

“Of course, but do you mind explaining why you called us here?” Phil said with a nod, suspiciously eyeing the prison. He shifted his wings almost as if he were expecting an attack at any moment.

Sam took in a steadying deep breath and let out a heavy sigh. “There was something I needed you to see. Both of you,” he said, making eye contact with the ender-hybrid who stood just a pace behind Phil, his nervous frame making him appear much smaller than he was, “You were the only two I could think of that may be able to help me.”

Sam left it at that, and turned around to face the entrance, speaking over his shoulder, “you may follow me.” 

For a moment the warden worried they would not follow, but the pair of footsteps quickly fell into pace with his own as they followed on his heels. 

The silence weighed thick and heavy between the three as Sam led them down each corridor he memorized like the back of his hand. He had yet to offer any other clues as to why the two guests were summoned. 

“Are you taking us to..to him?” Ranboo spoke up, tentatively.

Sam glanced over his shoulder to look back at Ranboo for a moment before looking back forward. “Yes,” is all he offered, continuing on in silence. 

Phil had started to slow his pacing to walk firmly next to the nervous boy in an attempt to offer some semblance of reassurance, noticing the way each new sound or howl of the wind made the hybrid twitch nervously. 

Phil kept silent, his own questions practically boiling over, begging to be spoken aloud, but he was unsure how much help they would actually do. Phil was not there when the prisoner was thrown into this place. He’d heard recounts of the man’s violent behavior that plagued the minds of many, especially from his own sons, and he could only be thankful to have not seen it himself. And so now at this moment, the man could not imagine the state of the prisoner, let alone why he was the one Sam called for help. 

They all came to a stop in front of the only occupied cell. As Sam reached for his ring of keys, it was noticeable to all the way they jingled together from the slight shake of the man’s hand. He, however, made no move to open the door yet and turned to face the two weary guests. 

“Inside, he is chained and a spell of miner’s fatigue amongst some others have been placed so he cannot attack anyone,” he attempted to reassure, but the looks he received did not scream reassured in the slightest. 

Phil shifted uncomfortably at the warden’s words. He spoke like the man was a monster, not a human being. “What exactly are you here to show us, Sam?” he asked carefully. His tone was not accusatory per se, but something itched at the back of his brain that something definitely wasn’t right here. 

Sam reached a hand up to rub at his temples, his face scrunched up like he was in pain. He searched for his own answer, only drawing up blanks. “I came to check up on him when I was notified that the food depositor had malfunctioned this morning,” Sam paused, mulling over his next words, slightly shaking his head, “There’s just something wrong with him.” His voice was only but a whisper, and before the two other guests could say another word or even attempt to protest, he had turned around, starting to unlock and open the large door. 

The three stood back as the obsidian door was pushed all the way open letting the stale air from the closed cell spill out and flood their senses, feeling vaguely similar to opening an old tomb. 

The light from outside the cell spilled in just enough to highlight the huddled figure against the wall for them all to see, in the same position Sam had seen him in earlier. However, now that he actually stood in front of the prisoner with more light, the details were more prominent and much more disturbing. 

The man in the cell was in the exact opposite position any of them could have imagined. He was not a monster waiting to attack and claw at any being that came close. He was not the tyrant or grand fighter they had seen mere months ago. At their feet was the shell of that man sitting right on death’s doorstep. 

Everything about the prisoner screamed wrong. The most noticeable was the lack of his mask that lay hidden somewhere else in the cell. Nobody had ever seen the face under that mocking smiley mask, but now that it was off, his sickly features mocked its lack of presence. 

His whole body was morbidly thin and frail, in turn resulting in his cheeks and under eyes to sink in with dark shadows. The chains around his skeletal wrists hung loose, easily escapable, and yet his hands lay still in his lap, unmoving. However, the chain around his neck remained quite visibly tight but just loose enough to show hints of burns and bruises where he had attempted to free himself. Blood had even managed to matte itself into every crack and crevice of the man’s body, some visible in his hair that now grew past his shoulders. 

The visitors could almost sigh in relief at the sight of his chest that rose and fell with steady breaths, but the small wheeze pushed from his lungs was anything but settling. 

Ranboo had taken a step back to cover his mouth at the sight, fighting back the urge to gag. Phil looked back at the hybrid with pity in his eyes, gently reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. It was not an easy sight to see a man they all knew, now grimly resemble the state of a decaying corpse.

The man’s eyes remained closed despite the sudden noises, and the men at the door could only hope to imagine he rested in a peaceful sleep to ease their own upset. 

But Sam knew what lay right under those eyelids, and it made his skin crawl, silently bracing for the beast to waken. He desperately tried to push down the guilt that made its way up at his throat, because how could such a broken man be capable of harm in this state; but he had seen him, and the moment’s glance had shaken him to his very core. 

Before he could warn the others of the truth behind the prisoner’s eyes, Phil was moving closer. 

“Careful-” he started, but quickly bit his tongue at the flash of worry the blonde man sent him. 

Phil continued forward and crouched down in front of the small figure, his hands ghosting over the other, too fearful to touch yet. “Oh Dream,” he whispers painfully, “What happened to you?” 

Phil’s voice must have caused something in the prisoner, as small muscles on his face started to twitch, signaling that he was waking up. Sam quickly caught on to the movement, his nerves set aflame. 

“Guys-” He tried again, his voice stern and loud with warning. Phil and Ranboo turned their head over to the warden in confusion. However, Sam had already turned ridged, his eyes focused just over Phil’s shoulder as he reached back to the hilt of his sword, his knuckles promptly turning white at his death grip. The two whipped their head back around immediately to find the cause.

A series of audible gasps filled the air as they all stared back at a pair of unblinking, purple glowing eyes. 

The three froze under the glowing gaze, fear pumping wildly through their veins, starting to mentally brace themselves for some sort of attack. 

But none came. 

He didn’t speak or even attempt to try and lift a finger. He just lay still as his eyes moved between each of the figures that stood before him. 

Phil shook his head from his frozen state and cleared his throat watching as purple eyes focused in on him at the noise. 

“Dream?” he asked in a low voice. 

Nobody dared to breathe or even blink as they waited for some sort of reaction. 

To all of their surprise, Dream cowered under their stares. He squeezed his eyes shut and tucked his chin down at the same time as a broken and guttural whine passed his lips. It sounded purely instinctual; a broken noise laced heavily with pain and fear. 

Their fear-ridden eyes had softened, and their tense shoulders loosed, all fear of attack disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. 

Dream wasn’t going to attack them. He was afraid of them.

It seemed he could not even lift his arms if he tried. All of that fight that lived behind his eyes was gone, leaving behind a man who only knew of pain and suffering. 

Phil tentatively inched closer, finally reaching his hand out to place against Dream’s cheek. He hissed, pulling it back for a split moment before placing it back with more certainty. 

“He’s freezing cold.”

Despite the way Dream’s skin felt like ice to the touch, Phil kept his hand there, and gently brushed his thumb at the protruding cheekbone. He sighed sadly at the way Dream had started to lean into the touch. 

_When was the last time he felt warmth?_

Phil faintly heard a new set of footsteps come up closer, looking to his left as Ranboo crouched down in a similar position to himself, Sam following up suit to stand behind them and peer over their shoulders. Ranboo fidgeted with his hands as nervous eyes scanned Dream’s small form before finally landing upon his lap. He reached his two gloved hands forward to gently pull Dream’s hands into his own, waiting for the latter to make a movement of protest. All they received was a small intake of breath, otherwise, he made no movements to pull away. 

Ranboo cradled the cold hands in his own, lifting them up slightly for the other two men to see in the light. “Look.” 

The two looked down in shock wondering how they had missed it the first time. A dark purple shadow had spread from the tip of the man’s fingers up just past his wrists, none different to Ranboo’s skin. 

They all looked at Dream, their hearts heavier than before they had entered the prison, the same thoughts entering their minds. The eyes, the purple skin, and freezing cold body temperatures. It was all starting to make sense. 

Ranboo peered up at Sam, now understanding the reasoning for his presence. “He’s turning into an enderman, isn’t he?” He asked, but they all knew the answer. The thought of their friend losing his mind so severely that his body had started to enter the void scared them so deeply to think about for more than even a second.

“I had no idea,” Sam jumped in, guilt spilling from his lips. “He was violent. He threatened to murder children. We all thought this would help, nobody knew how...how...” he trailed off desperately pushing through the lump in his throat. 

_How inhumane_ is what he wanted to say but something about saying it out loud would admit that the blame was entirely his as he was the one who built this godforsaken hell. As a warden, he should have placed guards, kept monitors, given him something that didn’t force him to watch as his own body decayed in front of him. 

“You were doing what you thought was right.” Sam’s eyes darted down to Phil’s voice, cringing slightly at his mini outburst. “But I don’t think we can leave him here,” the man continued, “He needs help. If he’s like this any longer, it may kill him.” His voice was stern but he still looked up to Sam as an ask of permission. 

Sam’s lips formed a tight line swallowing thickly at the proposed statement. Letting out the server’s most wanted criminal wasn’t exactly the easiest of decisions. But he refused to dwell on it. 

Instead, wordlessly, he nodded and reached back to grab his ring of keys again. The other two moved out of the way as Sam kneeled down slowly unlocking each of the chains, making sure to keep his hands away from touching the other. 

As he reached up to take the neck chain off, Dream’s eyes fluttered back open. His eyes slowly moved down to where Sam’s hands rested on the metal plate around his neck, and then back up to meet the eyes in front of him. He looked back at Sam, and the warden did not stand back or jump in fear this time. 

Despite the unnatural color and glow that emitted from the other’s eyes, Sam could see how inherently human they still were. Dream’s eyes were anything but the cold exterior that his body was exhibiting. Instead, Sam was looking back at two eyes that perfectly mirrored his own pain and confusion. Dream did not yell or snap, he did not attempt a snarky remark or a plea for escape. Dream only offered him a saddened look that spoke for him more clearly than any words he could attempt; he had given up. 

And that very look crushed every fiber of Sam’s being, that the man he knew with such endless fight to give, had finally given up. 

Sam released the chain from Dream’s neck, placing it to the ground, looking back up into violet eyes one last time. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, painfully. He quickly forced himself to look away, standing back up and moving out of the cell, unable to stomach being inside for another second. 

Phil and Ranboo shared a quick look, a silent conversation between the two before Phil took a deep breath and stepped forward. 

Dream had shut his eyes once again as the winged man leaned over and lifted him into his arms, instantly falling limp against the warm sensation that surrounded him. 

The man that could once stand tall amongst the three men now felt no larger than a child in Phil’s arms. 

They all exited the cell, stopping in front of the stoic warden. He cleared his throat, “There’s an infirmary just off the coast, it’s close and you should be left alone there,” he stated firmly. 

Ranboo eyed the empty cell practically waiting for something to jump out from the shadows. “What do we do about taking him out? I mean the server will have a riot knowing we did this behind their backs, the conse-” 

“Let me handle that,” he interrupted. “Just..” he paused and stared down at Dream cradled against the older man’s chest, “Take good care of him please?”

Phil nodded, offering a tight smile. “Of course.” 

He continued forward pausing for a moment as their shoulders lined up side by side, turning his head to face the warden. “You did the right thing,” he reassured, before continuing forward, Ranboo following directly on his tail as they rushed away from that wretched prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a current college student so I doubt I will have a consistent upload schedule but I am trying my best! Feel free to leave any constructive criticism or any ideas you have that maybe you would like to be explored in this, I would love to hear them in the comments, as I'm always looking to improve. Thank you, and I hope you all have a lovely day!


	2. Something New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phil and Ranboo do their best to help Dream.

By the time the infirmary had come into sight, Dream had fallen into a deep sleep. 

_It was for the better_ , Phil had thought. The man did not need the stress of a freak out on top of all the injuries he would have to heal. Keeping Dream under the least stress as possible was most ideal at the moment. It would be a miracle if it lasted long. 

They all neared the entrance to the infirmary, quickly eyeing the surroundings for a sign of any other life. They kept their footsteps light and only spoke in whispers as they entered, peering into each room ready for somebody to jump out. However, as they ventured in, they came to realize that not only was nobody here, but it also seemed nobody had _ever_ been here. Cabinet after cabinet was thrown open to reveal full stockpiles of medical supplies, never been touched or used. 

The building itself didn’t seem too old, with no clear signs of overgrowth on the outside, and only a thin layer of dusting across the furniture inside. If the older man were to guess, he would assume this was built around the time between the start of the server and the first war. It made sense to have a dedicated building for aid, especially with the track record of those on this server, but it must have been forgotten about long ago. 

With an empty infirmary and countless supplies, Phil was quick to get to work. He placed Dream down into an empty cot, swiftly searching through every cabinet to grab everything and anything he could possibly need. As he grabbed a handful of towels he turned back around to see Ranboo standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, his presence feeling particularly useless with his lack of knowledge on medical aid. 

Phil walked up, and gently placed a hand on the hybrid’s shoulder so as not to startle him, “Hey kid, do you mind finding a way to heat this place up? There should be some system set up or a fireplace somewhere in this place to get Dream’s body temperature up, yea?” he asked, kindly. 

Ranboo’s eyes had widened at his request for assistance and nodded rapidly. “yes, yes of course,” he sputtered out, before racing out the door. 

The winged man smiled appreciatively at the younger’s eagerness as he continued forward placing the towels next to an open bath. He truly did need a way to heat the place, as he could already feel goosebumps on his skin, but he also needed to find a way to keep him out of the room for a little. If he had nearly gagged at the sight of Dream in the prison, Phil did not want to wait around and see his reaction to what lay under his clothes. 

Phil took his time with the process. He turned the faucet spout on warm, testing it with his fingers until it was just hot enough for his skin to handle, before walking away to let it run. He returned a moment later with Dream back in his arms and very carefully lowered him into the stream of water, leaning him against the side of the basin for support. He waited for a moment to see how the other would react to the new sensation. To his surprise, Dream’s head only lolled to the side from the weight as he remained deep in his slumber.

Phil blew out a sigh of relief and continued to work, slowly peeling off the battered clothes that clung to Dream’s body. What was once a gray shirt and pants, now looked a dirty brown where there were almost entirely remnants of the obsidian stone and dried blood. Once the clothes had been fully discarded, and the waterline had reached up to his chest, Phil stood up to rid his own cloak and push up his sleeves. 

As he stood above him, his eyes lingered between Dream’s prominent ribs that prodded at his pale skin and the small cuts that never properly healed, but he quickly forced his eyes away as he reached for a towel. He did not have time to let his curious mind linger. 

He worked methodically along every part of Dream’s body. He pushed the warm towel against bruised skin to clean away the dirt and grime and cleaned each cut with the precision of years of practice. It reminded him of when his own sons returned home with countless battle scars, sheepishly turning to him to clean them up. Never would he have imagined to be doing the same to the server’s most hated man; let alone in the state, he was in now. 

As he worked from limb to limb, the water of the bath turned more and more into a murky shade as the blood was washed away. Phil hadn’t even touched Dream’s blood matted hair yet. He took a small bucket to pour the water through the long hair, carefully threading his fingers through each strand to separate the clumps that had formed around a slight irritation at the base of his skull. The man could assume how the injury had come to place and continued until his fingers could run through without resistance. 

When he finally finished up, he stood up to stretch out his tired knees and grabbed a large towel. Just as carefully as he placed him in, Phil pulled Dream from the tub into his towel and carried him back to the bed. He was careful of the irritated wounds as he dried him off and slowly pulled a pair of cotton shirt and pants left from the infirmary. 

Dream’s skin still felt like ice to the touch and sent shivers down his own arms. He could only hope Ranboo would find a way to heat this place up soon. 

Phil pulled up a small stool and some simple medicines before reaching over to grab one of Dream’s hands. The dark purple skin felt like a mockery, speaking loudly of Dream’s mistreatment. Nobody even treated animals as they had treated him; it was a surprise he was even alive. 

“I found the heater!” Phil jumped, immediately dropping the hand he was just holding at the sudden voice. He quickly spun to see a sheepish-looking Ranboo standing at the doorway with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you!” he yelped. 

Phil relaxed his tight shoulders and wings, waving off the younger. “It’s okay, kid. Thank you for the help,” he thanked appreciatively, watching the way Ranboo looked down with a proud smile. He knew how much it meant for the other to feel needed, it was one of the many things they worked on together now that Ranboo spent most of his time at Phil’s home. 

Phil turned back to pick up some disinfectant, slowly addressing it to the open cuts and wounds. He could faintly still feel the presence of the kid who had slowly made his way closer. 

Ranboo watched curiously, slightly envious of Phil’s skills. Maybe one day he could get the man to teach him. 

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” Ranboo asked.

Phil paused his hands as he thought. “I don’t suppose you know much about...his state?” He cringed at his faulty words hoping the younger would understand. 

To both their demise, Ranboo shamefully shook his head no. 

Phil nodded solemnly, turning back to the man in the bed. “I’m afraid of what it could mean for him.” 

“Wait Phil, Karl has a library,” Ranboo blurted. Phil eyed him curiously, tilting his head as a sign for the younger to continue, “Back around the main area, Karl built a library he’s gotta have something, right?” Phil scratched his chin as he sat to ponder it for a moment, before finally nodding. 

“That could actually work, kid. If you left now I think you could make it back before nightfall.” Phil’s words were filled with a much brighter hope than just a few minutes before, hopeful to find a reason or even a cure for this...disease. 

“Yes of course!” Ranboo chirped brightly. He was just about to turn around to make his way over when a large hand made its way to his shoulder. The ender hybrid had a good few inches above the other, yet somehow he felt so small under Phil’s sudden looming presence. 

“Kid, you cannot tell anyone about this. Nobody can know Dream is out, and especially not like this.” His voice was a stern warning of the terrors that could follow if any were to find out Dream was here. 

Ranboo nodded his head, his eyes widening in slight fear of the older man. Phil sighed at the sight, bringing his hand back down to his side. “I trust you, Ranboo I just want to make sure,” he reassured, truthfully. 

The two had grown close over the past few months, especially after the fall of L’manberg when Phil had so graciously given Ranboo a place to stay. The elder taught him many things that Ranboo could only accept with open arms, and even when he forgot sometimes, Phil was patient and kind with him. He was beyond grateful. 

They stood in silence for a moment as Ranboo’s eyes had made their way back to the man in the bed. “Hey Phil?” he asked. Phil hummed. “Do you...do you think he could be a hybrid, you know, like me?” The question felt stupid once it had passed his lips, and he looked to the ground in shame. 

Phil did not let him wallow too long in his thoughts. “I honestly don’t know, Boo,” he sighed, “I mean none of us have seen him under the mask until now so there’s always a possibility he could’ve hidden it from us. We can ask him when he wakes up and that's what the books will be for yea?” Ranboo nodded at the question, earning a soft smile from Phil. “We’ll figure it all out soon don’t you worry kid.” He reached up to ruffle the kid’s hair, earning the softest of laughs. 

Oh, how lovely it was to hear the sounds of joy separate from the devastation from the past few hours. 

Ranboo stood up straighter, a newer found confidence set in his shoulders. “Thanks, Phil.”

Phil waved him off as he turned around to sit back on the stool. “Anytime, kid.”

Ranboo was quick to run for the exit at the man’s last words. 

“Be safe!” Phil shouted after the young boy. 

The two gave each other soft smiles as the boy paused at the door frame before he was out the door and on his way. 

__ __ __ __ __ __

The next few hours were quiet and uneventful. The winged man had finished tending to Dream’s wounds and took some time for himself. He cleaned himself from the grime that found its way to his clothes and scoured the entire place for items he didn’t find in his first rush. 

He had even happened upon a small kitchen just around the corner from where he had placed Dream. His hands clapped together in excitement and quickly started prepping some food based on whatever he had put in his bag. He steered clear of the bread and potatoes, sure that Dream wouldn’t touch those things after his time in prison. 

It was mid-afternoon when Phil had made his way back to Dream to check on him with a pile of blankets in his hands. What he wasn’t expecting was for the man to be sat up in the bed, wide awake. They both froze as they made eye contact. 

Phil was the first to make a move. Very carefully, he started to walk closer, never moving his eyes away from the man in the bed. He moved forward as slowly as he could and hunched his shoulders slightly to make himself appear less intimidating. 

Dream’s eyes were passed over him almost analytically. The purple glow was much softer now that they were in a more lit space, and so Phil could clearly see the way his eyes scoured every inch of his body and movements. But he made no motion to move or that he had any intention of doing so. 

As Phil neared the side of the bed, he gently placed the pile of blankets down, and slowly sank down into the mattress, putting as much space between him and Dream as he could. He was hesitant to speak for a moment but ultimately decided to take it as slow was the best option. 

“Dream?” Purple eyes lifted and met his at the name, “Can you hear me?” he asked, as he made a gesture to his ear. 

He received a slow nod. 

Phil placed his hand over his chest, “Do you know who I am?” 

Another nod. 

As Phil thought of another question, a large growl interrupted him. Dream immediately turned rigid and wrapped his arms around his torso as if it could undo the sound his stomach just made.

Phil smiled, “I’ve got some food in the kitchen, I can’t imagine how hungry you are, I’ll only be a moment.” 

He moved as quickly as possible, scooping up a bowl of chicken stew he had made earlier, and pouring a mug of hot tea he had been boiling, before quickly returning back into the room. 

He walked back into Dream playing with the ends of his now long hair curiously. Phil smiled softly as he placed everything down onto a tray and put it gently into Dream’s lap. Dream looked down at the food for a moment, inspecting every detail, before grabbing the fork and tentatively lifting the food to his mouth. He paused, and Phil started to worry he was going to hate it. Those worries quickly diminished as Dream scooped forkful after forkful of food into his mouth. 

He reminded Phil of a young child with the newfound eagerness. He had almost finished the entire bowl when another loud growl erupted from his stomach. Dream’s head whipped up, the fork clattering into the bowl with a sharp ring as his hand came up to cover his mouth. 

The motion set Phil off immediately. He was quick to his feet, reaching under the bed for a bucket he had used before, and swept away the food tray quickly to shove the metal into his hands. 

Dream clutched the bucket with a tight grip until his knuckles turned as white as his paling face, even through the dark purple skin. His chest was heaving for breath as wave after wave of nausea hit him like a wall of bricks. Yet nothing came up and he was forced to endure more painful stomach cramps and spells of dizziness. 

Phil’s eyes filled with pity at the sight. He hadn’t even considered how much food Dream would actually be able to stomach. Based on Sam’s short words, it sounded like Dream had stopped eating a little while ago. Introducing new and richer food to his stomach probably upset it. 

He slowly reached forward, making eye contact with the other. “Can I touch you?” he asked gently. Strangely, Dream didn’t hesitate to nod his head. Phil was quick to stand and place both of his hands on Dream’s shoulders. Very carefully he maneuvered behind the other until they were both sitting on the bed. Phil reached forward grabbing strands of hair that had fallen in front of Dream’s face and pulled them back. His hands moved from complete memory as he separated the long hair into three pieces and folded one over the other in a braid. 

“You know Techno never used to braid his own hair,” he started softly, laughing to himself at the fond memories, “He’d always come to me and let me braid that long pink hair of his. If I’m being honest I couldn’t tell you if he just didn’t know how or just secretly wanted the company,” as he spoke and worked strand after strand, he could feel Dream’s trembling start to ease. This made Phil smile, and so he continued, “Obviously you can’t tell Techno that, he would kill me. But between you and me I think he’s just a big softie under all those layers.” Dream let out a soft sigh at that remark, his grip starting to loosen on the bucket as the death grip his stomach held loosened too. He just needed a distraction. 

Phil grabbed a tie from his wrist to finish off the braid. He was proud of his work and had successfully gotten the younger man to relax. And in case anything did come up, his hair wouldn’t get in the way. 

He slowly rose from his position and circled around to Dream’s front reaching for a large blanket. It was heavy, perfect for keeping warm and slowly draped it over the younger’s shoulders. Dream blinked looking at the new weight on his shoulders, but he quickly relaxed under the new warmth. 

“We’re gonna need to get you some new warm clothes aren’t we?” Phil wondered, aloud. Dream looked up at him silently. 

“Can you speak, Dream?” Dream furrowed his brows at the question and opened his mouth to speak. A guttural croak passed Dream’s lips, causing him to flinch back at his own worn-out throat. Phil was quick to reassure, “Hey I brought some of this tea for you don’t worry,” He said as he reached to the bedside and offered a small mug of steaming hot liquid. Dream nodded as he traded the mug for the large bucket in his lap which was set down on the floor with quick access. 

Phil had made the tea earlier, adding just enough healing potion to help the younger, but not enough he would be able to taste the bitter liquid. 

Dream lifted the mug to his lips with shaky hands, and visibly sighed as the warm liquid soothed his throat. 

“Is that better?” Phil asked.

Dream gripped the mug tight and opened his mouth, “Yes.” It wasn’t particularly loud, but it was a word and it didn’t sound nearly as painful for him. 

Their eyes caught for a brief moment, but Dream was quick to lower them and avoid the other’s stare. It was then that Phil knew that Dream was very much aware of his own state. With purple eyes and purple skin, there wasn’t much else to be desired. Despite that, Phil couldn’t help but feel as though he were looking at a young, lost child. His eyes screamed of his confusion about the world around him, scanning everything as if it were to attack or hurt him. He was the exact opposite of the tyrant he was described as before. Maybe it was the vulnerability of that terrible smiley mask he had always hidden under, but something about that felt a little too simple. _Did one prison cell really have the capacity to change a man entirely?_

“Dream?” The young man made no acknowledgment to his name, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” Phil tried again. 

There was a moment’s silence before Dream nodded his head. 

“You are aware you’re turning into an enderman?” 

He received a slow nod. 

“Are you a hybrid?” 

Dream shook his head no. 

Phil sighed a little, knowing he would have to break that news to Ranboo later. He continued his questions, “Did this start to happen in prison?” 

Dream mumbled a small “mhm,” before he lifted the mug to his lips to sip at the tea. 

Phil couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated. While he was getting some answers, it still felt like talking to a brick wall. But he reminded himself to be patient with the other, god knows how fast this probably all seemed to Dream. 

Phil slowly inched closer, alerting the blonde man. His eyes whipped up but quickly shot away, shame flushing his cheeks. “You can look at me. I am not afraid of you,” the older man expressed, kindly. 

Dream frowned at the statement. “Why?” He croaked out as he lifted his gaze, with a hint of shine now laid over his eyes with tears that had not yet been shed. 

“Why not? You are still Dream, are you not?” Phil said with a slight tilt to his head. 

Dream took a shaky inhale at the seemingly innocent question. Phil watched a small tear make its way down Dream’s cheek and instinctively he reached out to wipe it away with the pad of his thumb. Just as shaky as his inhale, Dream breathed out and leaned into the light touch. It reminded Phil of what Dream had done in the prison, and he did not dare to pull away. He’s sure Dream was most likely unaware of his actions, just searching for some sort of touch. 

“It is very cold,” Dream spoke suddenly, voice cracking between each syllable. He pulled away from the hand as his eyes opened back up and he subconsciously wrapped his cold fingers tighter around the warm mug in his lap, “and I hear these voices in the back of my head, like, like whispers or um..static,” he forced out. His face pinched together deep in thought, obviously mulling something over in his mind. 

Phil eyed the young man with a great sense of recognition. Dream lost a part of himself in that cell that he may never get back. This was definitely not the Dream who entered the cell those many months ago. 

“We’ll find a way to fix it, ok?” The lie felt heavy on Phil’s tongue. He knew the chances of finding any cure for _this,_ was highly unlikely, but giving the poor man an ounce of hope was the only thing he could think to do at the moment. 

Dream nodded, looking back like he knew it was false, but he did not say anything else. Phil immediately noted the new heaviness and fluttering of Dream’s eyelids and was quick to grab the mug from his hands as Dream leaned back into the comfort of the bed, exhaustion hitting him full force. Phil stood to grab the other blankets and gently draped them over Dream’s tired form. He was about to turn around to leave him to rest when a cold hand wrapped around his wrist. He held back the gasp and turned over his shoulder in question. 

“Will you…” Dream blurted, before lowering his strained voice to a whisper, “will you stay with me while I sleep?” Phil turned back around cupping both of his hands around the smaller, cold one. He offered a gentle smile and sat back down on the little wooden stool. 

“I won’t go anywhere,” he promised. For the first time, Phil could see the hints of a smile cross Dream’s lips before his eyes had finally fluttered closed, and he fell back to sleep. Phil liked to think it was much more peaceful this time. 

__ __ __ __ __ __

“It’s gotta be around here somewhere,” Ranboo muttered under his breath. 

The hybrid had never been to Karl’s library, not officially anyway. He knew the man had a smaller library before but he had been quite secretive about it. The newer one Ranboo had only ever heard of in passing, and he wasn’t quite sure he was even allowed in. 

It hadn’t been a long walk to the library. He held one of his notebooks in his hand that contained a messy sketch he had taken of the route when Sapnap had brought him around. He was thankful for the directions as he finally neared a corner and came across a building tucked away into the side of a mountain; without the directions, he doubted he would have been able to find it himself. 

Ranboo looked around, suddenly paranoid at the sound of every crack of a branch or whistle in the wind, that someone was ready to attack him. He took a deep breath before entering through the small squeaky wooden door and stepped inside. 

He didn’t know what to look at first. He noted it was much bigger inside than it looked from outside. Giant paned glasses stood around the entrance, but due to the overcast of the sky today, most of the light came from the yellow-hued lamps hanging from the ceilings and bookshelves. It looked warm inside, cozy even, with what Ranboo could only guess was hundreds of books lining shelves that naturally sat against the form of the mountainside. 

“Is someone there?” Ranboo jumped and froze at the sudden voice. He wasn’t supposed to be seen here. “Excuse me!” The voice yelled from behind some stacks. He considered running, but before he could even try and tell his legs to move, he whipped around and came face to face with the owner himself; Karl. 

Ranboo yelped, taking a step back from the shorter figure. He opened his mouth to explain himself but nothing came out. He was caught in a place that did not belong to him and everyone would find out about Dream and it would be his fault. 

“Ranboo! You didn’t tell me you would be coming by!” He blinked, looking down at Karl with a tilted head. _He wasn’t mad that he was here?_

“I uh yea I just wanted to pick up a few books,” he admitted sheepishly, embarrassment flushing his cheeks, “I'm sorry for intruding.”

Karl waved his hand as a large smile formed. “You’re welcome any time, man! Anything I can help you find?” he asked. 

Ranboo let out a large sigh, as his useless anxieties died down. He worried for a moment about accidentally revealing Dream’s state at the request of such strange books. Then he realized that he too was part enderman. “Just looking for some old stuff on endermen, ya know figure out who I am all that,” he rambled nervously. If there was something odd in his tone, Karl didn’t say anything and nodded. 

“Oh I’ve got plenty of Ancient texts over here I bet you could find something,” he said with a wave of his hand for him to follow. “That’s cool, you've got some mysterious past. Maybe you’re tied to some like ancient gods, wouldn’t that be fun? I mean, I’m sorry about all your memory problems and not knowing who your parents are that’s gotta suck. I can’t even imagine. What if you found out you had superpowers though, I’d kill for that!” Ranboo hummed along to the man’s strange ramblings. _Man did this guy like to talk._

As they came to a stop to a large bookshelf, Ranboo eyed the ancient texts curiously. “Karl?” The man made a noise of acknowledgment, turning to face the hybrid. “How did you come by all of this stuff?” he asked, reaching out to pick out a book, quickly wiping away the dust that collected on the cover. 

Karl turned to face the bookshelf and shrugged, “I’ve got a lot of time on my hands you could say,” he said with a light chuckle. Ranboo eyed the bright hoodied man but didn’t further question him. 

They stood in silence for a moment as Ranboo studied the titles and plucked book after book off the shelf until he couldn’t fit anything else into his bag. 

“I’ll return these as soon as I can, I uh really appreciate you lending them to me,” Ranboo was quick to thank the library owner with a slight bow to his head. 

Karl clicked his tongue with a wave of his hand, “Don’t worry about it I doubt anyone else is dying for these old things. It’s nice to get a visitor every once in a while too you know?” Ranboo nodded his head, a weird sense of guilt hanging low in his stomach. He wondered how lonely it must be to sit in this library alone, and he himself had only come by to get books for someone else. 

A large crash of thunder made Ranboo jump from his thoughts. Karl noticed the jumpiness to the younger and attempted reassurance. “It’s just a quick thunderstorm it should pass soon,” he stated. 

“Are they happening a lot?” he asked curiously. 

“Ah, I forget you live far from here,” Karl noted as he looked up to one of the big stained glass windows. “Yea we’ve been getting thunderstorms almost every day for about a month now, but hey you get used to them.” Ranboo furrowed his brows at the statement. 

“Isn’t that kinda strange?” They rarely got thunderstorms, let alone every day. 

Karl looked like he thought about it for a moment, his lips pursing in thought, “I guess they did happen quite suddenly, you kinda tune them out when they happen so often you know? It’s not the only strange thing around here either.” 

Ranboo turned to the shorter man in confusion, “There’s other weird stuff?”

Karl sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes as another clap of thunder came through. “Yea we’ve got all sorts of weird stuff going on. After they fixed up the land around where L’manburg was, they tried planting a ton of crops and more than half of them are coming up rotten,” he spoke, using wide, eccentric gestures with his hands, “everyone’s just been kinda eating sparsely recently. It really sucks, but it’s probably just bad soil or something,” he finished with a shrug of his shoulders. 

Ranboo eyed the shorter man strangely. That definitely sounded completely opposite of something normal, he wondered how he had missed it all. 

The two steered away from the strange occurrences and chatted back and forth about other miscellaneous things as the storm had passed, Ranboo knowing well he shouldn’t be caught in the rain. 

Eventually, the storm had passed, and Ranboo was given the opportunity to head back to the infirmary. He offered many thanks to Karl for lending him the books and started his little journey back. The walk back plagued Ranboos mind with a million new questions and many new concerns for the stability of the server. 

Ranboo returned to the infirmary with no issue of rain and little trouble with directions. He was lucky too that he had not run into anyone else. He’s not too sure how he would have explained where he was going. 

As Ranboo made his way through the infirmary, he made his way back to the room from before. He came across Phil beside Dream’s side, in almost the exact same place he had left him. Phil was quick to notice a new presence in the room. He lifted his finger to his lips in a shushing motion in reference to Dream’s sleeping state and slowly stood. He eyed the man in the bed before retreating from the bedside and motioning Ranboo to follow. They entered a room across the hall with a few chairs, torches, and a table in the middle. 

Phil quickly whipped around to Ranboo. “Did you get them?” he asked in a hushed tone. Ranboo nodded and took out book after book from his bag creating a significant pile on the table in the center of the room. Phil stared in awe, but it quickly turned grim at the thought of having to read through every single one of them. 

“Better get to work then yea?” They both picked up a book on the top of the pile.

“Wait, Phil?” Ranboo interrupted before they sat down. “Did you talk to Dream about…” Phil’s eyes softened, a small frown making his way across his lips. This was enough for Ranboo to understand. 

“I’m sorry, kid,” Phil tried. Ranboo waved him off and shook his head. 

“No it’s fine, it wasn’t likely anyways,” he mumbled sadly. He lifted his book and sat down into a chair behind him burying himself into the book. 

Phil sighed. He thought about trying to reassure but he knew it wouldn’t do much good. Instead, he followed the other and sat in a chair beside him, opening his own book. 

Minutes quickly turned into hours, neither noticing when the sun had dipped down past the horizon and the warm hue of the torches lit up the room. They read through their eye strain and tired minds, desperately scanning each page for any sign of this mysterious disease; if that's even what you would call it. The pile was getting smaller, and the two were nearing exhaustion when Phil picked up a new book. 

It was old and worn, the pages thick and dark from the furious writing it held inside. Something about this book was different. As he opened it up, a sense of hopeful dread filled his stomach. Each page was littered with messy calligraphy, writing of new diseases and conditions, accompanied by sketches of what they looked like. It ranged from small, curable colds, to unknown infections and phenomenons. Phil started to flip faster, words popping out from the pages, screaming at him.

_Zombie Bite: Amputation or execution required before the spread of infection._

_Vomiting black substance: airborne, dead within hours, cause: unknown._

_Spider poison, side effects include delirium, amnesia, violent tendencies, death._

_Cure: unknown_

_Result: death_

_Execution required._

_Untreatable. Results in death._

_Dead within hours._

_Death_

Page after page was filled with one fate more gruesome than the next. Phil almost stopped, a sick feeling spreading in his gut when he flipped the page. 

_Human to Enderman._

He froze looking down at the page. “I found something.” The words left his mouth before he even registered them. 

Ranboo immediately dropped his book and rushed to Phil’s side to peer over his shoulder. “What does it say?” he asked hurriedly. Phil swallowed thickly and looked back down at the book. 

In the center, was a sketch. It was the front view of a man, parts of his skin colored in with the dark ink, and most notably, two purple splotches of ink sat right where the eyes would be. This was it. He was hesitant but slowly read aloud the notes on the page. 

_“The patient slowly started to show signs of dark purple skin, starting with the fingertips, continually growing until it covered the entire body. Natural eye color faded and turned to a bright violet; seems to glow like an enderman._

_Origin: Unknown._

_First appearance: The patient showed a disconnect to the world and developed purple skin. Unknown link_

_Only occurs under extreme circumstances._

_Symptoms: Colder body temperature, purple skin, purple eyes, twitching, vomiting, shortness of breath, weakened immune system, murderous tendencies, and delirium._

_Treatment: Unknown._

_Contagious: No._

_Cure: Unknown._

_Result: Death_

_Notes:_

_The patient claims to hear voices in their head._

_Purple skin spreads at random or under serious duress._

_Theorized that the patient will pass into the void from this condition._

_The Void: The physical body will completely transform into the enderman form and remain in the world until killed. The spiritual body is sent to The Void where they will remain for eternity. Additional information about the Void is unknown._

_Condition is irreversible. Do not engage with the patient once fully turned. Before full spread, death by other means will stop them from turning and will not send them to the void. Best option is to kill on the sight of this disease.”_

As Phil finished the last note on the page, a heavyweight settled into the room. Neither Ranboo nor himself attempted to break the solemn silence that covered the room. Speaking now felt wrong and out of turn. Instead, the two sat in silence, letting the truth of the situation fully sink in.   
  


Across the hall, Dream was sitting up in his bed, clenching the blanket around him with tight fists and a stream of tears that cascaded down his cheeks. The words that carried down the hall were not quiet and they were certainly not nice. He laid down letting each word ring in his mind, once, twice, three times, and more. Dream did not sleep that night as the voices in his mind grew louder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took a while to get out, but I made it much longer so I hope that helps with the time passed. Please feel free to leave any constructive criticism or if you had any ideas you would want to see I'm always open to hearing them, I have a majority of the story planned out but I'm never opposed to new ideas. Thank you all to have commented or bookmarked or even just stopped by to read, it really motivates me to keep writing so thank you, and I hope you are all doing well :)


End file.
